


Crooked Empire

by posiexhandon



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posiexhandon/pseuds/posiexhandon
Summary: Criminal prodigy Landon Kirby didn't need a reason. Those were the words whispered behind dark alleys and loud taverns, in the private rooms of the pleasure houses and the warehouses down in the arts district. They whispered about how a scrawny young boy, bastard of The Claw, didn't need a reason anymore than he needed permission -- to crack a neck, steal someone's fortune or sever an alliance. Landon Kirby didn't need a reason but he always had one. And the death of his mentor was a damn good reason for revenge.The Wolves were the fiercest and most merciless gang in all of New Orleans. They were city royalty. Without them, the city would suffer, it'd go bankrupt. That's why Hope Mikaelson needed every reason to take down this new rival gang that has infiltrated the city, her home. She's the heir to the king of the Wolves, she couldn't let her father down, she couldn't let her family down. Everything Hope Mikaelson did was deliberate, whether it was breaking a skull or putting a bullet between someone's eyes. Everything she did was deliberate.
Relationships: Landon Kirby & Hope Mikaelson, Landon Kirby/Hope Mikaelson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 49





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Child exploitation, violence, human trafficking, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mention of rape

**_PROLOGUE_ **

Just outside of the windy and bustling city of Chicago, stood a quiet suburban town with young families raising their children. Everyone in the neighborhood knew each other. They enjoyed block parties and holiday dish exchanges. They gossiped about who’s kids would end up together and which kids weren’t being raised _correctly._ Everyone in the neighborhood knew each other because the residents of this town were all born and raised here, up until the day they leave. Everything about this suburb was almost completely bland and mundane. _Almost._

You wouldn’t know it from the look and feel of this town, with it’s white picket fences, Tudor homes and spacious front yards, but it was just a premise. It was an illusion. The residents of this town were all under one payroll and they only had one job to do. To breed and raise kids to be ready. To be ready for when the Hoods came. To make sure they were ripe for the picking at the prime age of 8 years old. When the Hoods came, you were expected to hand your child or children over without question and without hesitation. Your child or children were expected to follow quietly and obediently. If they found the child to be improperly raised then they were dismissed and the parents disciplined. A child that displayed disobedience meant that they were improper and that they were meant to be disposed of. That is what it meant to be dismissed. They were meant to be erased and it was the parents’ punishment to be the ones to erase them. If you weren’t taken by the Hoods at eight years old, then you stopped breathing.

The Kirby’s had a secret. They had two boys, one aged thirteen and the other just about to turn eight in a few short minutes. The Kirby’s were supposed to dispose of their eldest son Ryan, five years ago, because he threw a tantrum when the Hoods came, not wanting to leave his parents behind. It meant that the Kirby’s showed the boy love and affection and that was not what they were paid to do. They weren’t paid to get attached. They were paid to breed this boy and teach him the importance of obedience. They were paid to teach their son _yes._ He wasn’t supposed to understand the definition of no.

But they had tricked the Hoods. They had planned for this. From the fake blood pouch to the blanks already loaded into their glocks to Ryan’s timed tantrum. They had planned to point the gun at their son’s heart as soon as the Hoods ordered them to kill their son, where the blood pouch stayed hidden under his layers of clothing. They planned for Ryan to fall over a split second after they pulled the trigger, and just as the Hoods’ attention were driven elsewhere, have him poke the little pouch with the needle he kept secure within his sleeves, to allow the fake blood to pour out of the pouch. They had practiced this plan weeks in advance before the Hoods were expected to arrive. They practiced and practiced until the plan was flawless, until every detail of the plan could be executed perfectly, every time. Once the Hoods left, Ryan became aware of the danger it would bring if anyone other than his parents caught sight of him. He was alive but he was still erased.

When Landon was born, they planned to do the same with him. As soon as he was old enough to walk, they started him on his training. When parents produced two bad seeds, they were exiled because they were worthless to the purpose. That is what they wanted. They wanted to be exiled, to keep their children safe and they wanted to flee this wretched town with it’s wretched rules and masters. That’s what the Hoods referred to their bosses as. The ones that sent the Hoods out to collect the children. That’s what the Hoods called them, so it’s what everyone called them too. The Kirby’s wanted to live and raise their children away from the roughness of what they grew up with. They wanted escape, they wanted better for Ryan and Landon. Because they knew what was in store for their children when the Hoods came to take them. They knew exactly the reason why the masters were called just that and they refused to put their boys through what they both barely survived themselves. What they were both still trying to survive.

 _Knock knock knock._ The Hoods were here for Landon. Midnight, right on the dot.

“Landon sweetie, remember what we talked about. Remember what we’ve practiced. Just do everything exactly the way we practiced. Okay?” Seylah told her youngest son as her husband was helping to tuck Ryan into the escape hatchet they had built a few years ago. If anything happened to them, Landon and Ryan knew to climb into the escape hatchet, where none of the Hoods would be able to follow them. Ryan wished his brother good luck just a few minutes before the knocks came at the door. As soon as Ryan was securely in the escape hatch with a bag full of cash, clothes and food, he quieted himself, just like he’d always done whenever anyone stopped by the house.

“Yes Mommy.” Landon answered just after she had planted a soft kiss to his head and before going to stand in the hallway. He quietly held his hands to his side, slipping his right hand into the sleeve of his sweater to feel the familiar comfort of the needles he had been trained to use and manipulate. At such a young age, the needles had somehow become an extension of him and the feel of them always brought comfort, knowing that they’d always be there and never fail him. Seylah and her husband moved to open the door and without another word, five Hoods crossed into the threshold. Landon trembled already wanting to let out the scream that would cause his parents to have to “dispose” of him but he didn’t. He had to wait until after the inspection was over. He had to wait until the Hoods were about to lead him out of the door because it gave his father the window he needed to empty the pockets of the executioner. The Hoods always brought the executioner to a collection, in case the parents wouldn’t be able to follow orders, in case they needed to eliminate an entire family. Sleight of hand was his father’s ultimate gift, no one was better at it than him but Landon was well on his way to being able to compete for that title.

The Hoods were exactly that, they were hoods. They towered over everyone and wore black silk suits with black coats over them, the hoods of their coats always covering their heads. Each of them held onto canes with one jewel or another at the tip. The jewels symbolized the celebration of their labor and commitment with the masters, the more expensive the jewel, the more valuable you were. When the tallest of the Hoods knelt in front of Landon and laid his cane with the largest diamond any of them had ever seen, across his lap, they knew this was no ordinary collection. Landon looked to his mother, remembering to keep his face stone like, but he could see that she was nervous. _Something wasn’t right._

“Landon.. is it?” The man’s smooth voice asked as he pressed his large and pale hand to Landon’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Landon answered but immediately knew he already made a mistake. His mother’s nervousness had caught him off guard and he forgot to answer the man correctly. His mother never got worried and it scared him.

“Sir.” Landon recovered almost immediately but the damage was done. There was no such thing as hesitation but he hesitated and that was not the key to getting through their plan. The man huffed and shook his head already in disapproval.

“Pants. Drop the pants.” He ordered and Landon gulped, remembering that he shouldn’t hesitate again but this wasn’t part of the inspections. Inspections took place with the child’s clothes on. The clothes were supposed to stay on until the child was sold to their new owner.

“Kane..” Landon’s father’s voice faltered as he tried to keep his youngest son from exposing himself to a room full of grown men. What a fitting name for a man that carried a heavy jeweled cane around with him.

“Know your place, Maximus.” The tall man named Kane had cut off Maximus from speaking further. His jaw hardened as he looked to his wife. No one else but Landon noticed the slight nod they gave to each other and he knew what that meant. Plan B had to take place right now but Landon didn’t want to execute it. He was just an eight year old boy but he was old enough to know that he wouldn’t get to see his parents anymore after tonight if plan B took place. He didn’t want to let them go, not if he could just be brave for a little while longer. So he did what he thought would keep everyone alive, he did what he thought would allow for plan A to work. He gripped the button and zipper of his jeans and slipped both his pants and underwear down to his ankles and stood up straight, waiting to be inspected. All eyes suddenly turned to him, to this tiny, exposed, 8 year old boy.

“Seems your boy _does_ know how to follow orders after all. Better than that embarrassment you first produced.” Kane said and no matter how smooth his voice was, his hands were not. They were rough with callouses and dryer than the hottest desert and they were cold. Landon almost yelped as Kane squeezed and checked every inch of his exposure. Landon watched his parents, trying to take his mind off the wave of nausea that was threatening to come over him with each rub and squeeze of Kane’s exploring hand. He distracted himself with the thought that after tonight, they would be able to leave this wicked place behind. Finally, Kane pulled his hand away but Landon made no move to cover himself up, he knew better than to do anything without being given permission.

“Cover yourself up boy, we’re leaving.” Kane said as he stood up, gripping the jewel on his walking stick. Landon hurried to pull his clothes up and tucked himself away. As soon as he zipped himself up Kane swung and he swung with force. Landon was on the ground in a flash, his face on fire and dripping with the warm stickiness of his blood. He was dizzy and falling out of consciousness but he understood what happened because the weight of his body had crushed the blood pouch. Not only was his face oozing with blood but now there was no hope that they’d make it out of there alive. He stared and noticed for the first time that the end of Kane’s walking stick held a small and sharp blade. Maximus was being held back by three of the Hoods while Seylah was being choked up against the staircase. They had moved to shield their son when Kane started to swing but the Hoods were faster.

“Take this as a lesson, don’t ever try to cross us again.” Kane turned and pulled the desert eagle he had in his coat pocket, pointed it at Maximus and shot him in the head. Landon watched as his father’s life left him and his body crumpled to the floor after having his brains sprayed against the door. Ryan kicked the hatch door open from across the room. It was going to be impossible for Landon to make it over there so that they could escape but he had to try because Ryan just exposed their family’s first betrayal.  
“Landon! Run!” Ryan called out as Seylah took advantage of her husband’s death to overtake her captor and pulled out the beretta she had always kept clipped to her belt. She started shooting the Hoods in the eye, a perfect shot each time. Landon didn’t hesitate this time and even with the pain searing through him and his equilibrium being off, he sprinted across the hall, stabbing Kane in his calf with one of the needles he kept hidden in his sweater, then ducked out of his furious grasp just as Seylah lunged at him to keep him from grabbing hold of Landon.

“Take care of each other! I lov-” Seylah called just as she pinned Kane to the floor and Landon slipped into the hatchet. Before they could close the door and before Seylah could finish her sentiments, Kane blasted a round of his desert eagle into her open mouth and that was it. She was gone. Their parents were gone. They didn’t have time to mourn and grieve because Kane came barreling over to the hatch with nothing but malice and rage in his eyes.

“Landon! Close the door! Now!” Ryan called and Landon did as he was told, trying not to notice the sting of tears falling down his cheeks as they mixed with the blood still trickling from the slash Kane had tore into his face. Landon pulled the door closed just in the knick of time. As soon as the door shut, the hatch fell and slid all the way to the other end of the escape tunnel, shooting them out into the canal about a half mile away from their home. They stayed as hidden as possible, trudging along the canal without another sound besides their feet threading through the dirty liquid. They slushed through the thick and cold water until they reached the end of the canal and climbed up onto the highway just outside of the nearest city. They could just barely make out the horizon of the night lights.

Landon finally made a reach to hold his brother’s hand and Ryan didn’t pull away. It was just them now, Ryan had to be the responsible one, he had to provide for his little brother. The money they had wouldn’t last them forever. Ryan squeezed his brother’s hand to try and comfort him but Landon pulled away immediately at that gesture and shoved his hands back into his jacket pockets. Landon was just violated, exploited, and Ryan should’ve known better. Ryan didn’t see everything that happened but he heard Kane’s voice when he ordered his little brother to display himself to a room full of adults. He could hear the men near the hatch, snicker and remembered the rage that coursed through him when one of them disgustingly whispered to the other, _I’ll buy that little prick myself and have my way with him._ Ryan would never let anything like that happen to him again, to them.

“Come on bud, let’s find a place to sleep.” Ryan said and Landon just nodded, staying silent. He held his hand out for his little brother once more, being a little more careful and mindful of him. Landon took a deep breath and placed his hand in his brother’s once more, but with the fabric of his oversized sleeves between them, so that he wouldn’t feel skin against his. Landon decidedly came to the conclusion that the sensation of feeling another person’s flesh was something he never wanted to experience again.

They came across a bus stop and Landon immediately went to sit on the bench, thankful for the rest it was providing to him at this moment. Ryan on the other hand, sat in front of the bench, allowing Landon the entire length so that he could try to get as much sleep as possible before they continued their journey into the city. That and because someone needed to keep watch, and the rocky ground allowed Ryan the uncomfortableness he seeked, so that he could remain awake. He unzipped the bag and pulled out some bandages and clean wipes for Landon, unsure if his brother will allow him to wipe his face for him. Landon took them and began to clean himself up without another word. As soon as he placed the badge on his face, he laid back down and stared off in the distance, trying his best not to replay the events that happened earlier tonight.

“Try to get some sleep, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” Ryan told his brother and so Landon closed his eyes but he didn’t fall asleep, at least not right away. The memories of tonight kept trying to surface when all he wanted to do was throw it in a closet and forget any of it ever happened. He wanted his parents to pull up on the side of the road and tell them that they passed the test, that all of this was just another practice run, that those guys weren’t really the Hoods and that they weren’t really dead. But what was it their mother always said? _Life is brutal, there are no practice runs, this is it. This is all any of us gets._

He fell asleep thinking about his mother’s words and as soon as he did, his parents flooded his dreams. Sessions with his father where he taught Landon the intricate art of sleight of hand. His mother reading to him just before bed so that he would dream of heroes and good conquering evil and flying. Him watching his parents steal soft kisses when they thought their kids weren’t looking. Memories of birthdays and stormy nights together filled his dreams and all he wanted to do was capture them in a jar like fireflies so that he would be able to hold onto them and let them light up the darkness spreading around him.

Ryan knew the moment Landon fell asleep because he had stopped tossing and shifting on the bench. He turned his head and looked sadly at his brother and felt defeated. He should’ve burst out of that hatch sooner, he should’ve pulled out the pearl white revolver that his mother taught him how to shoot with precision, and he should’ve buried a bullet into every last one of those Hoods’ hearts. Or at least, where their hearts were supposed to be. Maybe if he had, they would’ve all had a chance. Maybe if he did, then his little brother wouldn’t have been molested by that monster. Landon was _molested._ He was just an innocent little boy and he was violated, _his little brother,_ whom he swore to always protect. He allowed his little brother to be exploited because why? Because he was too scared to move? Because he was too afraid that he’d be killed first? Because maybe no matter what he did, he wouldn’t have been able to make a difference? Ryan shook his head at himself, dispelling all those fears from his mind. Regardless of how scared he was, Landon is his little brother and he should’ve saved him. He should’ve done everything in his power to protect him, but he didn’t. Tonight he failed Landon, he failed his parents, he failed himself.

 _HONK!!_ A car horn jolted both Landon from his slumber and Ryan from his reverie. They both looked at the long, dark limo in front of them. _Crap, did Kane catch up to them already?_ Ryan thought but no, it couldn’t have been Kane. Hoods drove sports cars, they didn’t own limos. Landon sat up and thrust his hands back into his pockets as Ryan stood in front of him protectively, while wrapping the strap of the bag around his arm. He was going to be ready to swing if the situation called for it because it was too late to pull out the revolver now without alerting their unexpected guest. The tinted window rolled down and revealed an immaculately poised and olive skinned woman.

“Now, what are two young and adorable boys such as yourselves doing out here in the freezing cold and this time of night?” Her inviting voice asked. Before they could answer, she unlocked and opened her door, revealing more of her. Her hair was done up in a simple bun like style. She wore a long silky red, halter top dress with black satin gloves that covered her arms up to her elbows, and a fur coat that looked similarly like a foxes’ fur. Though those were bare in comparison to the jewelry she displayed over her gloved fingers and wrists, the earrings that dangled from her lobes and the massive raven shaped diamond necklace resting against her chest.

“We don’t want any trouble ma’am. We’re just waiting for the next bus into the city.” Ryan answered, gripping the bag strap tighter the closer she stepped to them. Landon hid behind his brother and fiddled with the remaining needles he kept in the sleeves of his sweater.

“The city you say? Tonight’s your lucky night. I’m on my way back into the city from a meeting with an old friend. Why don’t you let me give you a lift and I’ll drop you off wherever it is you need to go?” She asked but did another once over of them and noticed their soiled clothes then switched gears.

“Or, you can spend the night and get cleaned up. My son doesn’t have many friends and he’d be delighted to share his legos and video games with you two for the length of your stay.” She smiled sweetly at them and after everything they had been through, they needed to catch a break. Maybe this woman would be their savior, maybe she wouldn’t, but she was offering them a place to stay for the night and it was freezing.

Landon tugged on Ryan’s arm at that moment and Ryan realized what Landon had been so preoccupied with. The limo driver had gotten out from the front seat and was pulling what looked like an unconscious man out of the back seat. Landon had recognized it before Ryan could. Just before the driver was about to toss the limp and lifeless body on the side of the road, Landon had caught sight of the diamond cane resting across the body.

“Can I have that?” Landon asked, his voice sounding rough, as he pointed to the walking stick the driver was about to chuck into the darkness of trees next to the highway. The woman looked over at the driver, who had just flung Kane’s distorted body into the shadows. The woman smiled and gestured for his driver to bring the cane to Landon. He took it and held onto it without another word. Ryan watched his brother and knew that this woman, whoever she was, was no friend of the Hoods or their masters. But the question still lingered, who was she? Before Ryan could agree to her offer, Landon pushed passed him and climbed into the back seat.

“Thank you, I promise we won’t be a bother and we will be out of your hair tomorrow morning.” Ryan told the woman and she shook her head as she gestured for him to climb into the limo as well.

“Nonsense. You two might actually be able to help me with a lot more than you think.” She told him and Ryan had no idea what she meant but after the night they had, after losing their parents and Landon’s innocence, he didn’t have the strength to question her. In fact, within 5 minutes of the drive, both Landon and Ryan were both out like a light and when they woke, they found themselves trapped in another nightmare. Except, they didn’t know it yet, but they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The themes discussed in this fic aren't a work of fiction. They are real problems that real people face every day. I encourage you to please educate yourselves on matters such as those listed in the trigger warnings. When you're equipped with the right information, you'll know how to help. Educating yourselves on these matters is the first step in joining the fight.
> 
> Information Regarding Human Trafficking:   
>  [United Nations Website](https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/what-is-human-trafficking.html)
> 
> Information Regarding Child Exploitation Prevention:   
>  [Migration and Home Affairs](https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/cybercrime/child-sexual-abuse/global-alliance-against-child-abuse_en)   
>  [UNICEF](https://www.unicef.org/protection/child-labour)   
>  [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/health-topics/violence-against-children)   
>  [ICE - Predator](https://www.ice.gov/predator)
> 
> Some Information Regarding Abuse Prevention Organizations:   
>  [National Sexual Violence Resource Center](https://www.nsvrc.org/organizations/150#:~:text=The%20International%20Society%20for%20Prevention,abuse%2C%20neglect%20and%20exploitation%20globally.)   
>  [Domestice Shelters](https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations)   
>  [The International Society for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect](https://www.who.int/violenceprevention/about/participants/ispcan/en/)   
>  [National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence](http://www.ncdsv.org/ncd_linkswominternational.html)   
>  [Office on Women's Health](https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/other-types/emotional-and-verbal-abuse)   
>  [Prevent Child Abuse America](https://preventchildabuse.org/resource/preventing-emotional-abuse/)
> 
> Information Regarding Rape Prevention Organizations:   
>  [No Means No Worldwide](https://www.nomeansnoworldwide.org/our-story#:~:text=No%20Means%20No%20Worldwide%20\(NMNW,and%20girls%20ages%2010%2D20.)   
>  [United Nations](https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/about-us/un-action/)   
>  [The International Campaign to Stop Rape and Gender Violence in Conflict](http://www.beautyinthemiddle.org/the-international-campaign-to-stop-rape-and-gender-violence-in-conflict)
> 
> Information Regarding Animal Cruelty Organizations:   
>  [PETA - People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals](https://www.peta.org/about-peta/learn-about-peta/)   
>  [ASPCA - American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals](https://www.aspca.org/)   
>  [Animal Justice Project](https://animaljusticeproject.com/)
> 
> Information Regarding Substance Abuse Organizations:   
>  [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/substance_abuse/en/)   
>  [National Institutes of Health](https://www.nih.gov/about-nih/what-we-do/nih-almanac/national-institute-drug-abuse-nida)   
>  [National Center for Biotechnology Information](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3122477/)


	2. The Mikaelsons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall didn't plan on having a baby together. It was one stupid, drunken night. It was one stupid, drunken dance. Nine months later and Hayley was pushing the little bundle of _joy_ out of the usual body part that typically felt pleasure rather than pain. After one night of blurred pleasure and one night of excruciating pain, Hope Mikaelson was born. No one planned on her, no one thought a child could bring a family like the Mikaelsons, more wealth. _Literally._ In the world of the Mikaelsons, love was practically non-existent, but with Hope's arrival, it became possible. After all, a twisted version of love was still love, _right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Child exploitation, violence, human trafficking, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mention of rape, animal cruelty, substance abuse.

The compound was home to the city’s most notorious and elite syndicate, the Wolves, who were ruled by none other than the richest and most feared family in all of New Orleans; _the Mikaelsons._ The compound was a fortress and palace all in one. The Mikaelsons had built it from the ground up, with the blood and bones of their enemies blended with the sweat and tears of their lost members. The Mikaelsons had come to New Orleans with nothing but each other and the clothes on their back. They had sought out the toughest gang around and conquered -- no, _massacred_ \-- the blood thirsty gang, the Vikings, ironically earning them the esteemed title as the city’s saviors. But just a few years after vanquishing the Vikings, there had been another gang, the Cobras, looking to rise through the circuits and were on the cusp of overtaking the Mikaelsons when they killed the head of the family, Mikael, and his wife Esther. In the end, their children had enough wits to take down the Cobras. Freya, Finn, Elijah, Klaus, Kol and Rebekah. It was their unity that allowed them to overpower the culprits of their parents’ deaths. Their unity and strength solidified the power they had over New Orleans. From then on, only fools tried to steal this city from them and no one wanted to be a fool.

The Mikaelsons were considered wolf royalty because they had started and ruled the Wolves since the beginning. Since the very first deal, _transaction_ , made. The Mikaelsons knew that money didn’t come from drugs and petty theft, but in human beings. They understood the economic value one human being could hold. They understood that to the right buyer, one or two could mean a fortune. So they took every single advantage of that knowledge. All the transactions they dealt consisted of other humans. Men, women, children. If their DNA was human, they were a transaction waiting to be made. No one was off limits. Well, _almost_ no one.

Klaus Mikaelson was the king of the Wolves and his daughter, Hope, was his second in command after her mother, Hayley Marshall, was killed when Hope was just 12 years old. Her death came about because one of their most trusted members, Marcel Gerard, failed to do a thorough perimeter check of the premises and surrounding area where an exchange was supposed to take place. It was Hope’s first transaction as a full fledged member of the Wolves. Hayley had seen the quick flash of light in the building complex across from them, that glare of a sniper lens caught in the wrong angle of the sun. She had less than a blink of an eye to react, jumping in front of Hope and catching the sniper bullet into her chest, a bullet meant for Hope’s skull. Hayley’s death had changed everything and the Mikaelsons had lost their guiding force. That mantle was to be taken up by Hope now.

Elijah Mikaelson was everything Klaus needed his brother to be. A shrink, a friend, a brother, a thief, an executioner. You name it, Elijah did it without a second glance and without remorse, no matter how horrible the task might be. Elijah was the backbone of the family, always carrying the weight of everyone’s indiscretions and secrets around, making sure they never saw the light of day, and therefore the closest confidant to their leader, Klaus. Yes, Hope was second in command but that was just a meaningless title. Formalities, as referred to by Klaus. Everyone knew the decisions and final words were uttered by Klaus and Elijah. Their word was god and to defy god meant death.

Of course, the pair did have that duo of sisters who somewhat balanced them out from time to time, though if you asked Klaus and Elijah, they’d deny any allegations that Freya and Rebekah had any influence over them. Which was quite amusing since it was Rebekah and Freya's revelation to them about how their brother, Kol, was skimming off his share of contributions, basically stealing from the family’s wealth. Without Rebekah and Freya, the Mikaelsons and the city would’ve gone bankrupt because of Kol’s dirty habit of gambling away his allowances and betting portions of their “businesses” that he had no control over. Except, instead of giving credit where credit was due, Klaus and Elijah greedily stole it for themselves. They took all credit for exposing the thief among them, and it was Klaus and Elijah that revelled in the glory of beheading their youngest brother. The youngest brother that had survived birth, that is.

However, even Kol’s greediness was nothing compared to Finn’s treason. Finn had coveted Freya’s long time girlfriend, Keelin, and had acted on his ugly desire. He brutally used Keelin for his own pleasures, threatening to make Keelin watch as he sliced Freya’s throat in her sleep if Keelin so much as thought about exposing him. He didn’t just rape her, he mutilated every inch of her, made it so painful that even Freya’s tender and loving caresses became a burning and otherwise, excruciating sensation. Finn had abused Keelin for years before Freya found him out. She had suspected something was wrong with Keelin. The once lively and fearless woman she had fallen for had broken into pieces along the way. So a trap was placed and Freya caught her younger brother red handed, literally. His hands were smeared with Keelin’s blood in the aftermath of brutalizing and having his way with her, in _their_ room. Keelin was left crumpled and near lifeless on the floor, though that was because it was how Finn liked it, for her not to make a sound or move an inch. There was no need to consult with Klaus or Elijah. Coveting your sibling’s property was forbidden. Damaging each other’s property was unforgivable. Keelin wasn’t property, she was much more than that, which only made Finn’s crime that much more gravelly. Freya grabbed the closest weapon she could find, a saber Keelin had given to her for their first anniversary. _For our enemies and those that seek to come between us._ That was what Keelin had engraved on the hilt of the sword. Finn was now an enemy and, to Freya’s dismay, would only have a taste of her wrath instead of all of it. The saber was sliced through his disgusting extremity before slicing clean through his neck without so much as a breath between strokes.

Betrayal had no business in the Mikaelsons’ world. Whether you were starting out and being initiated into the Wolves or a long term guard or even Mikaelson blood, betrayal had no place with the Mikaelsons, with the Wolves. Betrayal meant your death and the death of your children, born or unborn, to weed out future generations of traitors. Betrayal was dishonor and disloyalty. Honor and loyalty were two traits needed to be initiated into the Wolves. Even if their version of honor was twisted, it was the principle of the matter. Honor among thieves, among crooks, among killers. And so Kol had met his fate at the hands of his brothers and his sisters did nothing about it but enjoy the show. While Finn met his fate by his favorite sister and everyone was glad to see him disposed of.

Hope was their heir, their best chance at continuing their legacy, their only chance at continuing their legacy. Elijah had wanted only one woman and one woman only. But for Elijah, that woman was the mother of his brother’s child. Though Klaus and Hayley’s only evidence of consummation was through Hope, they shared no intimacy, no romance. In fact, if it weren’t for Hope, they would’ve never spoken to each other again. But Hayley wanted her bloodline to live on and Klaus needed an heir to his empire, so they decided against disposing of their creation. Regardless if there was love or not between them, Hayley was off limits. Klaus had forbade it, not just for Elijah but for anyone that so much as looked in Hayley’s direction. Jackson Kenner was a good reminder of Klaus’ savageness, he had nearly torn off every single one of his limbs when he found out he intended to court Hayley, and to top it off, he thrusted a dull wooden spike through his left eye, propping him up and leaving him in the middle of Bourbon Street as a warning to all. And so Elijah did as he was told, just like he always did, and if he couldn’t have the woman his heart belonged to, he refused to produce an heir of his own. He might have been their backbone but Klaus was their head, he was their king, he was their Alpha. There were no appeals, no negotiations to be had. When Klaus decreed something, not even Elijah could fight it. But Elijah had his personal ways of enacting rebellion against Klaus. Ways that Hope was all too familiar with. And sure, some would say Freya and Rebekah could bear children of their own as alternatives for the throne but not if Klaus had anything to say about it. He had proclaimed that all Mikaelson spawn born through a Mikaelson woman were unfit to rule because they wouldn’t have the genes of Mikaelson men, the superior complex of the clan. Klaus’ word was the law and there was no such thing as breaking the law of Klaus. Hope may be a young, Mikaelson woman but she hails directly from Klaus himself, she was _his_ blood. She was made specifically for the throne.

So now that the throne was secured and wouldn’t fall into the hands of anyone other than a Mikaelson, the way Klaus had seen it, there was no use for their sisters, though that changed with time. Freya and Rebekah spent their earlier days partying and lounging about, letting their brothers do all the work. They spent their allowances, mingled with the other rich folk in the area and even diverted attention away from their family’s dealings by causing a sex scandal or two with whichever politician pissed them off the most on a given week. That is until Elijah saw them for the golden opportunity they were. Klaus and Elijah took care of each transaction themselves, carefully curating every single piece of merchandise that came their way. Over time they noticed that some of the male members of the Wolves seemed to do more scaring away than luring in. Freya and Rebekah looked innocent enough. To anyone that didn’t know any better, these two were practically angelic, until you were trapped under their spell and would stop at nothing to please them. This is how business really started to boom. Once Hayley had given birth to Hope and Freya had snagged Keelin, they were more than willing to play a part. They became the Maidens of New Orleans, no man could resist them, every woman wanted to be their next best friend and every child was drawn to them.

Hope had joined their brigade at the mere age of 13 since her mother had passed a year before then. It made sense for her to join because casting a ripe young thing like Hope into the sharky waters of corruption, meant the catches would be even younger. The younger the merchandise, the more the benefactors would dip into their deep pockets for them. Everyone played a part, whether you were a master of the con, learning it or protecting it, every wolf had a job to do and they were expected to surpass all expectations every, single time. Otherwise, you weren’t a wolf.

The compound was a physical representation of their strength and harshness. It withstood floods and hurricanes, tornadoes and earthquakes, riots and drive-bys. And it was a metaphor for their darkness because it allowed them to stay hidden in the shadows while also maintaining their aristocratic image. The compound allowed them the ability to coax their merchandise into trusting them. To be invited to stay with the Mikaelsons or any of the Wolves, it was seen as an honor. At least that’s the word that was spread around town. The locals were paid for their word of mouth to the tourists and to look away when they witnessed transactions being made. Once upon a time the locals worshipped the Mikaelsons for freeing them under the reign of the Vikings but now they feared them just the same, if not more. With the Vikings, the residents of New Orleans were their fragile, witting victims. With the Mikaelsons and their wolf pack, nicknamed by the locals, they at least weren’t harmed and they turned a profit for themselves, as long as they remained loyal. Corruption always reached new lengths when the Mikaelsons were involved.

Hope had grown up at the compound. She didn’t know what life outside the compound was like. She was accustomed to seeing faces come and go. At an early age she learned to never befriend the people that came by because there was no use. They were always taken, no one was meant to stay. Even worse, whenever she would hear the cries of a baby or child, it was her responsibility to comfort them, knowing that the words she used to calm them down, were empty promises. _Don’t worry, we’ll find your mommy soon. It’s okay, we’re just going for some ice cream. Your brother’s going to be back, he’s just helping Uncle Elijah with an errand._ Hope made promises she couldn’t keep. Before she learned not to get attached, she would go crawling to her mother in tears, wanting to know where the children were being taken. Wanting to know why they couldn’t stay and be friends with her. _You already have us as friends and we’re all the friends you’ll ever need._ It’s what her mom told her every single time but it wasn’t enough. The older she got, the more she craved for a connection with someone her age. So she started pleading with her father instead. If it were anyone else, they would’ve found their tongue cut out within a minute of their whining. But this was Hope, his littlest wolf, his heir, and he would not harm her. Instead, he had tasked Elijah with teaching her their ways. Unfortunately for Klaus, and especially for Hope, that was a mistake.

Now, at the age of seventeen, Hope was malicious. She was conniving. She was vindictive. She was _venomous._ She was everything Klaus was, mixed in with everything Elijah made her to be and she carried out everything her aunts taught her to do. Klaus was a savage but Hope? Hope was dangerous beyond measure, and she was the worst of them all. While her family had reserves about committing certain crimes, Hope didn’t have that annoying hindrance. Not anymore, not after her uncle had broken her apart. She’d burn a whole family to death if even one member irritated her, and she wouldn’t bat an eye. She’d shoot a puppy if it yapped too loud. Hope was their legacy after all, and they didn’t plan on leaving behind a pushover to take control of the throne. They wanted a monster in the making, a monster that other monsters would bow down to. When Hope took the throne, they wanted her to be the monster of monsters. And that was exactly what she was. What made her a monster wasn’t just her cruel and maniacal nature, it was the fact that she was calculating and devious. That was what made her deadly. Her aunts would kill anyone if given a reason to. Her father and uncle didn’t even need a reason to kill, it was a sport to them. Hope on the other hand, took the best of both, if there wasn’t a reason then she’d create one herself and if there was one, then she’d make it worse.

“Huh, would you look at that? Seems the O’Connells found themselves some bad luck over Sweetwater. Their helicopter was found scattered in pieces around those boring hilltops they have there. Oh I do hope they’re alright.” Hope said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and boredom, as she lounged about in the downstairs study while skimming through today’s news, checking in on how their stocks with Marshall Airstrip were fairing against Griffith Airfield.

“Now Hope, don’t tell me you had anything to do with that.” Klaus responded from across the room as he cleaned the Chinese ring daggers that Hope had gifted to him last year. He had just finished butchering the thieving whore, Davina Claire. He had suspected she had been trying to steal his more well known, and very wealthy, clientele away. To have them at her disposable rather than his and enough was enough. Klaus grew tired of their back and forth game, so he decided to finally end it with his victory.

“Why, whatever do you mean? You know just how much I _love_ Camille and that little bloodline of hers.” Hope feigned surprise but Klaus knew his daughter well enough to know she had a hand in the O’Connells _accident._

“Hope.” Klaus looked at his daughter menacingly and after a while, she let up. He was her father after all and no matter how much of a villain she could be, she still followed his law, his rule.

“If you ask me, for an entire helicopter to explode? Well, that just seems like bad engine and fuel maintenance to me.” Hope shrugged but the smirk that spread across her face did nothing to hide her joy.

“Did you sabotage their helicopter?” Klaus said angrily as he stabbed one of the daggers into the mahogany table in front of him, before he stalked up to his daughter.

“ _Of course_ I did. You were getting too close to that Camille woman and she was bad for you, for the Wolves. You were growing soft because of her.” Hope responded without so much as a glance at her father. He was seething, his fists were clenching and it was his knuckles cracking that finally got Hope to look up from the news articles she was skimming through. And she was unimpressed with the sight.

“So you _deliberately_ put Camille in danger with the absolute intent of killing her?! Do you understand how that’s a crime _against me?_ Against _my property?_ ” Klaus towered over Hope, raising his voice and glaring furiously at her but she continued lounging completely unfazed and went back to her reading.

“Everything I do is deliberate. See, this is what I mean by you growing soft. Do _you_ understand the kind of scrutiny _you_ are under? The once great Klaus Mikaelson, the Mikaelson that nightmares are made out of, now reduced to a sappy, lovesick mutt. Everyone sees it dad, you should be thanking me.” Hope folded the paper up and leapt up from her seat before planting a kiss on her father’s cheek. Just as he was about to respond, Hope cut him off.

“And she wasn’t _your_ property dad. Marcel made sure of that. You can ask anyone.” Hope grinned at seeing the discomfort in his eyes. After all, he was their alpha and if what Hope said was true, he couldn’t afford to show that he was wounded. This is where their dynamic worked the best. They made sure that no one would ever think about crossing one another. Hope looked out for her father’s reputation just as much as he looked out for her well being. Some would call it love between a father and his child, but those smarter would call it protecting an investment. Still, the wound was deep and Klaus had a hard time controlling his emotions.

“You could’ve come to me first instead of rushing such a traceable plan.” Klaus said, doing his best to even out his voice, glancing over his shoulder just enough to see Hope stop her stride.

“ _Traceable?_ You still think I can’t put a job together without being found out?” Hope retorted, her anger now rising. She didn’t continue with what she wanted to say because she knew it was no use right now. Instead, she tossed the paper back at her father and slammed the door shut behind her.

Klaus knelt and picked up the paper, unfolding it to the page Hope must’ve been reading over. In large, bold letters, a news title caught his eye. **_BREAKING NEWS: O’CONNELL SIBLINGS, OWNERS OF O’CONNELL BIOTECH, KILLED IN COMPANY HELICOPTER EXPLOSION._** Klaus continued to read on about how the fuel used in the helicopter had left behind a massive amount of corrosion in the tank, resulting in the helicopter to explode. Sources had given statements regarding Griffith Airfield and how they had been secretly using a hybrid fuel that burned too fast and was known to fast track corrosion in metal. This kind of publicity would devour Vincent Griffith, a long time business rival, but it was practically music to Klaus’ ears. _Hope was more cunning than he gave her credit for._ Griffith Airfield’s stocks began to rise higher than Marshall Airstrip just over a month ago. Hope had killed two birds with one stone by saving her father’s reputation and eliminating yet another business threat. She had planned, executed and followed through perfectly. She was ready, Klaus thought, she was finally ready for the task he had saved over the years, a task specifically crafted just for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The themes discussed in this fic aren't a work of fiction. They are real problems that real people face every day. I encourage you to please educate yourselves on matters such as those listed in the trigger warnings. When you're equipped with the right information, you'll know how to help. Educating yourselves on these matters is the first step in joining the fight.
> 
> Information Regarding Human Trafficking:  
> [United Nations Website](https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/what-is-human-trafficking.html)
> 
> Information Regarding Child Exploitation Prevention:  
> [Migration and Home Affairs](https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/cybercrime/child-sexual-abuse/global-alliance-against-child-abuse_en)  
> [UNICEF](https://www.unicef.org/protection/child-labour)  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/health-topics/violence-against-children)  
> [ICE - Predator](https://www.ice.gov/predator)
> 
> Some Information Regarding Abuse Prevention Organizations:  
> [National Sexual Violence Resource Center](https://www.nsvrc.org/organizations/150#:~:text=The%20International%20Society%20for%20Prevention,abuse%2C%20neglect%20and%20exploitation%20globally.)  
> [Domestice Shelters](https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations)  
> [The International Society for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect](https://www.who.int/violenceprevention/about/participants/ispcan/en/)  
> [National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence](http://www.ncdsv.org/ncd_linkswominternational.html)  
> [Office on Women's Health](https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/other-types/emotional-and-verbal-abuse)  
> [Prevent Child Abuse America](https://preventchildabuse.org/resource/preventing-emotional-abuse/)
> 
> Information Regarding Rape Prevention Organizations:  
> [No Means No Worldwide](https://www.nomeansnoworldwide.org/our-story#:~:text=No%20Means%20No%20Worldwide%20\(NMNW,and%20girls%20ages%2010%2D20.)  
> [United Nations](https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/about-us/un-action/)  
> [The International Campaign to Stop Rape and Gender Violence in Conflict](http://www.beautyinthemiddle.org/the-international-campaign-to-stop-rape-and-gender-violence-in-conflict)
> 
> Information Regarding Animal Cruelty Organizations:  
> [PETA - People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals](https://www.peta.org/about-peta/learn-about-peta/)  
> [ASPCA - American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals](https://www.aspca.org/)  
> [Animal Justice Project](https://animaljusticeproject.com/)
> 
> Information Regarding Substance Abuse Organizations:  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/substance_abuse/en/)  
> [National Institutes of Health](https://www.nih.gov/about-nih/what-we-do/nih-almanac/national-institute-drug-abuse-nida)  
> [National Center for Biotechnology Information](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3122477/)


	3. The Raven Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landon Kirby was a thief. He could steal anything and anyone without so much as a scratch on him. The trick was taking your victims attention and directing it where you want it to go. Thieves weren't like other criminals in the city, they were the low risk hoodlums you never thought twice about. But Landon Kirby was not a common thief, at least that's not what he was made to be. No, Landon Kirby was a thief and a killer and an extortionist. He was all of that and so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Child exploitation, violence, human trafficking, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mention of rape, animal cruelty, substance abuse, self harm.

Festus City was just another run down town overwhelmed with criminals, misfits, sex crazed college students and business typhoons seeking privacy for their reckless deeds. It sat just outside of Saint Louis, Missouri and was about a 30 minute drive away. Festering City was probably a better name for it, with all the old and moldy buildings and spooky alleyways, the place was pretty much a dump. You didn’t come here for the family activities, history museums or the sights. No, Festus City may have been a living cesspool but everyone looking to have a good time for a somewhat affordable price, knew that this was the place to be. To the surrounding cities, it was known as the pleasure district, nicknamed The Claw. You name it, they had it and it was yours to take, granted you had strong enough claws to take what you wanted. Everything from strip bars, to nightclubs, to gambling establishments, to pleasure houses, to crack dens. Whatever tickled your fancy, Festus City had it.

The city was run by a number of gangs, each handling the tourism market in their own territories. If you walked down Robert Dixxon Avenue (named after the owner of the first ever drug den) and anywhere within a 10 mile radius of it, then you’d be in Dragon’s territory. They had the smallest area to reign when compared to the rest of the gangs in the city since they were the newest pop-up gang that seemed to have gained some traction about a decade ago. The babies of Festus City as the others referred to them. The Dragon’s were in charge of the main recreational drug circuit. Then there were the Lions, in charge of the gambling circuit. They owned all the legal gambling establishments for high stakes bets as well as all the underground gambling dens for those broke college students looking to make a quick buck and end up getting scammed out of their money by the house. Higher up in the ranks were the Sirens and sensual pleasure was their game, no matter the cost. They could produce any kind of desire with their House of Exotics and it was highly recommended, by tourists and locals. If you wanted a dominant Polynesian man, an experienced Brazilian woman, or a young and “willing” Asian for the night, the House of Exotics is where you’d get it. Of course, that wasn’t their only business venture. They had several other gentlemen’s clubs and strip clubs, though the options there were slim.

Lastly, there were the Ravens and they had their hands in every circuit. They were the kings and queens of Festus City and they were more than just an unkindness. They were a band of the city’s most ruthless and cold-blooded bastards around. Though they weren’t always this way. Before their current leader, Pax, the Ravens were the bottom feeders of the city. They owned the worst property and pulled in the least amount of tourists. Old Man Tex used to run the show, though no one called him that to his face. In his younger days, he could brawl with the best of them and he did, that’s how he rose to the position that Pax was in now. Though his greed and particular penchant for meth had cost the Ravens most of their wealth and all of their reputation. Like their former leader, the rest of the Ravens became a bunch of addicts and soon after, that had become their identifier. Crackheads instead of Ravens. In this town, that meant they were nothing but pups ready to be slaughtered. If you give an addict their candy, they become your bitch, even if they are the head dog in charge.

When Pax, Pen and Landon stumbled onto their unwelcoming doorstep five years ago, Pax was hell bent on turning the Raven’s luck around. The three of them came from Chicago after Pax and Pen’s parents were killed in a bloody showdown, resulting in them being orphaned, along with Landon as he was considered to be their unofficial adopted brother. One of the things their mother had always emphasized was to _never_ trust a wolf, a lion, a siren or a dragon but a raven can be a friend if you let them. It never really made too much sense to them until Pax came home one evening after spending the day with their father, Tobias, at _work_. Pen and Landon came to know what it meant not too long after and when they were all eleven years old, they were initiated into the Phoenixes to begin their formal training. A year after, they were left with no one else but each other.

The Parks had taken in Landon and his older brother Ryan when their matriarch Talia, decided to pick up two young boys on the side of the road, who had seemed to be all alone in the world. She had brought them home, had them cleaned up and settled in with a cozy room for them to share that first night. When the two arrived at the building complex the Parks owned, they found themselves in the presence of a pair of twins, Paxton and Penelope, who were Landon’s age. While Ryan got along with them easily and right away, Landon had kept to himself and for a time, he only ever spoke to Ryan, having him be his sort of mock translator. But an adjustment period was expected, not just for Landon and Ryan, but for the Parks as well. Talia had never brought home other kids before because her husband had discouraged it. He was afraid that when Talia decided to bring home a stray, they’d end up disrupting how they wanted Pax and Pen to grow up. Talia had normally brought back older teenagers who were on the run or had been kicked out of their homes to come work for them. As it turns out, despite Tobias’ initial discouragement, Ryan and Landon were perfect additions to the family because of their particular skill sets that the Parks would come to see and utilize in time.

It’s been 9 years since Landon and Ryan had been welcomed into the Parks’ home and it’s been 4 years since Pax took over the Ravens. That first year when Pax, Pen and Landon had arrived at the Raven Club, they were brought straight to Old Man Tex, after telling them the Phoenixes had been slaughtered. Tex had them initiated right away and that first year, they were the rats of the group. Doing every single menial task that was asked of them, no matter what the time of day or night, no matter the punishment if caught. They did every single task. As the year carried on, the three of them gained respect rapidly and when Old Man Tex couldn’t even get out of his bed for half the day because he’d been too hungover from the night before, that was when Pax started to steal the Ravens from right under his nose. The respect they once had for their leader dwindled increasingly while in the presence of Pax. They were only 12 when they arrived, kids on the edge of becoming teenagers, but that’s not what the Ravens saw when they looked at Pax. They saw a leader, one who was wily and smart and conniving. Old Man Tex learned to be a Captain of his army, albeit a disgraceful one, but Pax was created to be a General and that became quite obvious to the Ravens.

A year into their initiation with the Ravens, Pax had convinced Old Man Tex to take a step back on leadership responsibilities while also making him believe he was still the leader. Pax, at 13 years old, had gotten nearly every single Raven clean and had whipped them into the soldiers they were meant to be, well, as far as criminals go. It was easy when he had Pen and Landon as his seconds in command. Pen was the master of secrets, nicknamed the Ghost because you’d never know if she was there observing you or not. She could scale any building or landscape, natural or man-made and she was a shadow, impossible to catch. If she didn’t want to be seen or heard, then she wasn’t, and she was always just out of arm’s reach. Then there was Landon, being the master of escape and deception. The two worked in harmony together. While Pen gathered the secrets of their fellow criminals in arms as well as a few select crooked politicians here and there, Landon used them to the Raven’s advantage under the guidance of Pax. He brokered with the information Pen collected because secrets weren’t like coin. Every person is a vault of secrets and Landon understood that. He knew that secrets were protected at all costs, so why try to negotiate with money when secrets got you what you wanted, in less time and without all the unnecessary brute force? And while no one had ever been able to catch Pen, with her being the shadow that she is, Landon relished in being the one captured when someone wanted to try and put him and the Ravens in their place. Why? Because there was nothing, _nothing_ , he couldn’t escape from or break into, and toying with the people that tried to push him down, was his favorite game. Pax knew how to delegate them to do what they do best and he knew how to plan an entirely flawless con with contingencies should they ever need it. With the three of them, the Claw was their kingdom.

Pax was a tall man, that had a medium brown complexion with a lean build and dark brown, tousled hair. He had a crooked jawline, strong eyebrows and slender cheekbones. His smile was manipulative, it was sweet and innocent but it was also devious, it made you want to trust him while knowing you shouldn’t. His eyes were wicked and inviting all the same and that combined with his smile, were his best weapons. Those features were the common denominator between Pax and Pen. Their piercingly intense and sweet light green eyes were a rare commodity in this dark world and their sickenly sweet smiles were irresistible. While Pax was tall, Pen was not. She was short, slender and nimble, all the things that allowed her to be the Ghost. It made it that much easier for her to defy gravity and scale unscalable buildings. She was just a shade darker than her brother and unlike him, she had wavy, raven colored hair and a self done, studded nose piercing on her left nostril.

Landon was nothing like the twins, regardless if they referred to him as their little brother, despite being the same age. For starters, Landon never smiled. _Never._ He had effortlessly dark, coiffed hair with curls that flawlessly framed his rough but sleek face. He had an ashen complexion due to him lurking in the dark rather than soaking in sunlight. He had light green eyes but there wasn’t anything sweet about their intensity and the dark circles around them did nothing to hide their raggedness. His eyes were fierce and deadly, like a predator waiting to rip their prey apart. He had a slender build to him, lean like Pax but with less meat on his bones, and that made it easier for him to slip away via tiny spaces if needed, though he wasn’t fond of that way of escape. He preferred tailored suits and coats along with his gloves that had hidden pockets for the tools of his trade, the set of needles and picks his father had given him, instead of the thug attire the rest of the Ravens chose to parade around in. He preferred clothes with lots of pockets because more pockets meant his ability for deception would be heightened. But the most destructive feature about him was the long and perfectly angled scar that ran down and across his right cheekbone to just next to his lips, but it hadn’t healed correctly. Although the scar was a perfect diagonal given to him by a perfect cut made from a small piece of steel, it was jagged from having to heal multiple times over the years. Landon felt that the scar shouldn’t look like a perfect line across his face because there was nothing perfect about it, it needed to look ugly because it was ugly. The memories of it were ugly and so that’s what he made it. Those first couple years with the Parks, anytime the scar had healed, he’d sneak a kitchen knife, box cutter or his brother’s switchblade, to slice the scar wide open again and each time, it healed wrong. The last piece to Landon was his cane, one he’s had since he was eight years old. Back then it had a disgustingly attention-seeking diamond perched on top of it while a sharp blade had sat at the bottom but Landon had revived it to be in his image instead. Now, a golden phoenix stood at the top of the cane while the bottom no longer held a blade but just a gold plated tip and there were intricate designs of thorns that were hand carved into the cane, carvings his older brother Ryan had done for him, carvings of thorns, and it suited him very well.

“Sir Edward is back in town again, no doubt up to his old tricks. Need you and the Ghost to drop in on him for a visit. Report back to me in the morning.” Pax had told Landon as he pulled on a coat and slipped the knives he carried around with him into the sheathes he kept hidden inside his coat. Landon stood before Pax, leaning against his desk with his cane propped up next to him.

“In the morning?” Landon asked sarcastically because he already knew the answer. He cocked an eyebrow at Pax then looked up to the windowsill, giving the shadows there a knowing look, already suspecting Pen to be there, despite seeing nothing but darkness.

“Yes in the morning. I have somewhere to be tonight.” Pax answered before picking up a gift wrapped box on his bookcase.

“Ah I see, the young and ripe Cassie requests your presence does she? Quite needy that one.” Landon snorted as he picked up his cane and made his way to the door but Pax stood in front of him, blocking his path.

“You’re not allowed to pass judgement on her. Do you understand?” Pax snarled and Landon flashed a smirk at him with his eyes.

“Of course, your highness. I hope you enjoy this evening’s conjugal visit like the vile criminal you are.” Landon’s rock salt rasp was sprinkled with glee as he saw Pax’s eyes flare with disdain before cooling and stepping back.

“You’re one to talk. You’re just as a vile criminal as I am. It’s just that not everyone has got a stick up their ass like you.” Pax retorted with a grin.

“Mhm, everyone should. And I’m not a criminal Pax. I’m a businessman.” Landon fired back coolly and confidently. He even almost chuckled at his own joke. _Almost._

“You’re a thief.” Pax answered, trying to correct him. 

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Landon retorted before glancing up the windowsill to see the curtains swaying gently, meaning Pen was already on her way to visit Sir Edward, so he should be too. He nodded at Pax then slipped past him.

Landon never understood the need for the physical touch of another and why most people craved it. To him, the very thought of it was absurd and naive. What did it bring? You didn’t turn a profit from it and if caught in a compromising situation, you’d end up giving everything you have for no one to find out about your secret, lustful endeavors. It was absolutely ludicrous to him but to each their own he supposed. He preferred the feel of money instead, the cry of his victims begging for mercy, the sight of one’s fortunes being taken from them and deposited into Raven pockets. Silly things such as love and affection had no place in his world.

As Landon limped through the crowded and drunken streets of Festus City, he took in the sights of his surroundings, the place he had now come to know as home. It was dirty and sweaty and crawling with all the naughty doings only the night can bring. It was the time of night where every bar and nightclub was littered with horny college brats and all the pleasure houses were infested with the obnoxiously rich and corrupted assholes. It was two in the morning and the night was still young, there was always more to be given and more to be had. _More to be taken,_ Landon thought and tonight, that was exactly what he was going to do as he strolled past the House of Exotics. A dark figure had been following him since he left the Raven Club and he had been positive it was some druggie looking for a score but the way this figure towered over him without letting out a single whimper for candy, Landon thought otherwise. Without hesitation, he flipped his cane, catching it by the base and whipped it around, allowing the head of the cane, the golden phoenix, to come in contact with a rather large man’s head. There was a resounding _CRUNCH_ before the man crumpled to the ground. Landon had crushed his skull with one swing and without another second, he wiped his cane of the blood splatter and continued his limp through the dark alleyway behind the building, where the true monsters of the city lurked.

“Please sir! You cannot take me out of the room, it is against the rules! Madame Selene will have your head!” A young girl’s cries were muffled and a sudden gagging noise replaced it instead. Landon continued to limp through the alleyway silently though he felt the bile rising in his throat at the sickening sound of flesh against flesh and he fought hard on allowing himself to expel his disgust. Instead, he continued lingering in the shadows while Sir Edward’s attention was diverted to imploring this heinous deed on one of Madame Selene’s _employees._

“Why Sir Edward, isn’t it past your bedtime?” Landon’s rasp traveled across the way and startled Sir Edward, who had jumped and scraped his _manhood_ against the young girl’s teeth. He cursed as she yelped and he pulled away immediately trying to ease the pain as well as shield himself from being seen. Landon looked at the girl in pity but smoothed his expression almost immediately and sighed.

“You’re still here are you? Shoo, go away. I have business with this one, so I suggest you get back inside before your mistress finds out you left the premises.” Landon told her and watched as she picked herself up and ran as fast as she could, wanting to put as much distance between Sir Edward and herself. Landon didn’t blame her, the greasy white slimeball thought he could take anything and everything he wanted without so much as a consequence. Maybe that was true in his world, but not down here, not when Landon Kirby, bastard of the Claw himself, came lurking around your corner. Though it was hard to tell if she was more terrified of Sir Edward’s repugnant nature or of facing Madame Selene’s whips. Regardless, Landon was here to do a job, despite wanting to put the asshole in his place, and he knew Pen wanted to do the same thing. He couldn’t see her but he knew she was out there.

“You little bastard! You can’t just-” Sir Edward started to speak and his whiny voice was enough to tear Landon’s ears apart.

“Ah ah, watch yourself. You’re no longer in the comfort of your _charming_ palace with all those highly trained guards to keep you safe from all the world’s monsters. Need I remind you that you’re at the center of the Claw without your usual protection. Your nobility is stripped clean the moment you step foot into _this_ city.” Landon cut him off as he limped his way over to the egotistical coward.

“Did you really believe I’d be out in these filthy streets without protection? My bodyguards know how to stay hidden. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already pointing their guns at you, ready to light you up.” Sir Edward snarled, gaining his confidence thinking he had the upper hand. This was Landon’s favorite part of the game, the moment he gets to take their false triumph and toss it in the trash where it belonged.

“Hmm. you mean the guard at the end of the alley? Or the guard at the clock tower around the corner trying to keep a good vantage point? I’m not worried about them much, as I believe they’ve been preoccupied by a ghost. Or maybe you meant the guard you had trail me, who I dropped on the way here?” Landon grinned with his eyes, there was a devilish joy behind them that drained whatever color was left in Sir Edward’s face.

“You.. how da-” Sir Edward began with an enraged voice but it was quickly silenced with a hard swing of Landon’s cane across the old man’s face, a hit he’d perfected over the years, making his prey stumble and lose all coherency without making them black out completely.

“I did tell you to watch yourself didn’t I? My warning was for your benefit, not mine. You see, I’m not particularly in a good mood this evening. So, why don’t we cut to the chase huh?” Landon said as Sir Edward lost his balance and fell to his knee, inadvertently bowing to Landon.

“It doesn’t matter why I’m here. The deed’s probably already done.” Sir Edward coughed and spat blood from his mouth. _What?_ This caught Landon off guard but he didn’t let it show.

“Hmm, well let’s have it then. I do enjoy a good story just as much as the next person.” Landon responded, his rasp gaining more grit with each word spoken, as he leaned on his cane. Sir Edward just grinned with his bloodstained teeth and before he could say anything more, Pen dropped down from whatever railing or balcony she was perched on top of and landed like a feather next to Landon. _This wasn’t good._ Pen never showed herself unless she wanted to be seen or something was fundamentally wrong. She shared one look with Landon and he knew immediately that they needed to get back the Raven Club, and fast. This was a diversion, Sir Edward was the distraction while something of theirs was being taken. Before they disappeared from the alley, Landon swung another swift hit at Sir Edward, but this time it was a much lower swing, hitting his much lower head.

Even with his limp, Landon moved with inhuman speed. Anyone willing to steal from a thief in the Claw, was completely out of their mind. Especially if that thief was Landon Kirby, not if they had a brutal death wish. Pen wasn’t anywhere near Landon anymore, she preferred to travel by rooftops because they allowed her to take shortcuts that weren’t available to her if she traveled on the ground. That and she loved the adrenaline of the possibility of dropping to her death, though she knew that was never actually a possibility for her. Both of them sprinted and leaped and dodged all obstacles and gained speed with each passing second. When they finally arrived at the steps of the Raven Club, nothing looked out of the ordinary but outwardly appearances meant nothing. They sped up the steps, jumping up two at a time before barging in through the front doors. The site before them was a living nightmare.

Pax and Old Man Tex’s headless bodies were strung up and nailed to the two pillars in the foyer. Landon heard Pen’s breath stop as they crossed the threshold and looked up at their brother then to the old man who had taken them in when they had lost everything. Without another word, Pen climbed up the pillar her brother was fasted to and started tearing the nails away to bring him down. There were tears in her eyes but she was silent, she wasn’t sobbing or wailing or weeping, she was stone-faced with tears. A sight just as frightening.

“What happened?” Landon finally found his voice and it was demon-like. No one wanted to answer him, no one wanted to take the chance that he would crack them in their guts with his cane. But the Ravens knew they had to say something, they had to explain what happened. Finally, a voice spoke.

“We don’t know who they were and we were outnumbered. They had assault rifles pointed at all of us and wore hoods over their faces. They barged in with Pax’s body already decapitated. They asked for whoever was in charge and Old Man Tex stepped forward. This guy.. he just pulled out a pair shears and cut his head clean off.. they weren’t Claw thugs, they were something else.” A burly and dark teenager said as he approached Landon. They shared a look, much similar to the look Landon shared with Pen.

“Find who did this. All of you. I don’t care if they blow you all to smithereens. Find who did this. GO.” Landon’s gravelly rasp became monstrous as he spoke over all of them. None of them argued, they were more afraid of his wrath then dying at the hands of a coward behind a gun. They didn’t play by those rules in the Claw but that didn’t mean the Ravens were easy prey or meant to be toyed with. Everyone dispersed except Pen who was mourning the death of her brother and Landon, who was suddenly and angrily grasping yet another loss.

“Raf.” Landon called and his voice was back to it’s steady rock salt rasp. The burly teen was at Landon’s side in seconds.

“Take Jed and check in on Cassie.” Landon told him before he limped his way to his room. Leaving Pen alone with her brother while Raf exited to do his assigned task.

Landon reached his room and shut his door. He opened his window for when Pen would eventually crawl through to discuss the intricate ways of how they would avenge Pax when they found whoever did this. He slipped his gloves off before sitting behind his desk to pull out the pearl white revolver from the hidden compartment in the drawer. The revolver that had once belonged to his brother Ryan. He always found comfort in the feel of it regardless of the history it carried. But when Landon reached for the familiar smooth handle of the sharp six-shooter gun his brother cherished, it was nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The themes discussed in this fic aren't a work of fiction. They are real problems that real people face every day. I encourage you to please educate yourselves on matters such as those listed in the trigger warnings. When you're equipped with the right information, you'll know how to help. Educating yourselves on these matters is the first step in joining the fight.
> 
> Information Regarding Human Trafficking:  
> [United Nations Website](https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/what-is-human-trafficking.html)
> 
>   
>  Information Regarding Child Exploitation Prevention:  
> [Migration and Home Affairs](https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/cybercrime/child-sexual-abuse/global-alliance-against-child-abuse_en)  
> [UNICEF](https://www.unicef.org/protection/child-labour)  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/health-topics/violence-against-children)  
> [ICE - Predator](https://www.ice.gov/predator)
> 
>   
>  Some Information Regarding Abuse Prevention Organizations:  
> [National Sexual Violence Resource Center](https://www.nsvrc.org/organizations/150#:~:text=The%20International%20Society%20for%20Prevention,abuse%2C%20neglect%20and%20exploitation%20globally.)  
> [Domestice Shelters](https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations)  
> [The International Society for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect](https://www.who.int/violenceprevention/about/participants/ispcan/en/)  
> [National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence](http://www.ncdsv.org/ncd_linkswominternational.html)  
> [Office on Women's Health](https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/other-types/emotional-and-verbal-abuse)  
> [Prevent Child Abuse America](https://preventchildabuse.org/resource/preventing-emotional-abuse/)
> 
> Information Regarding Rape Prevention Organizations:  
> [No Means No Worldwide](https://www.nomeansnoworldwide.org/our-story#:~:text=No%20Means%20No%20Worldwide%20\(NMNW,and%20girls%20ages%2010%2D20.)  
> [United Nations](https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/about-us/un-action/)  
> [The International Campaign to Stop Rape and Gender Violence in Conflict](http://www.beautyinthemiddle.org/the-international-campaign-to-stop-rape-and-gender-violence-in-conflict)
> 
> Information Regarding Animal Cruelty Organizations:  
> [PETA - People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals](https://www.peta.org/about-peta/learn-about-peta/)  
> [ASPCA - American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals](https://www.aspca.org/)  
> [Animal Justice Project](https://animaljusticeproject.com/)
> 
> Information Regarding Substance Abuse Organizations:  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/substance_abuse/en/)  
> [National Institutes of Health](https://www.nih.gov/about-nih/what-we-do/nih-almanac/national-institute-drug-abuse-nida)  
> [National Center for Biotechnology Information](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3122477/)
> 
> Information Regarding Self Harm Prevention Organizations:  
> [Crisis Text Line](https://www.crisistextline.org/topics/self-harm/#what-is-self-harm-1)  
> [HelpGuide](https://www.helpguide.org/articles/anxiety/cutting-and-self-harm.htm)  
> [Centre For Suicide Prevention](https://www.suicideinfo.ca/resource/self-harm-and-suicide/)


	4. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope Mikaelson had lost her mother in a routine deal that went sideways. No one knew who her killer was but one thing was certain, Hope was supposed to die the day her mother took the bullet that was meant for her. The Mikaelsons, with all their resources and connections, had failed to capture the filthy scum but all that was about to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Child exploitation, violence, human trafficking, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mention of rape, animal cruelty, substance abuse, self harm.

Hope sat at her end of the dining table with her legs draped across one of the armrests of her lounge chair while she leaned her back against the other armrest. Coffee in one hand with the local paper in the other, vaguely aware of her father at the other end eating his beignets calmly. _Uncharacteristically calm._ Though Klaus was very much angry with his daughter for planning and executing the death of his beloved Camille, there were other pressing matters to attend to. Matters that have been put on hold until Klaus deemed Hope ready for the undertaking he planned for her. After finishing his fourth beignet without so much as a word to each other, he decided to break the silence.

“Hope darling, what is so interesting that you refuse to enjoy this delicious breakfast spread with your dear dad?” Klaus asked with an even tone as he took a sip of his morning glass of scotch to wash down the sugary and doughy heaven of the beignets he devoured.

“Who said I wasn’t enjoying myself? I very much was, until you decided to ruin the harmony of silence.” Hope retorted with no interest and took another sip of her coffee.

“This is a family meal, it requires family discussions and quality time.” Klaus replied as he placed his elbows on the table, holding his glass up to his lips.

“A family meal? Wouldn’t that require, oh I don’t know, the family? But father dear, wherever are my aunts and uncle?” Hope answered sarcastically without looking up from the article she was enthralled by. Klaus was beginning to think her distraction into the paper was just another way to pour salt to his wounds after last night’s revelation.

“Your uncle.. is right here.” A deep and dangerous voice came that sent a shiver of momentary terror down Hope’s spine, though no one noticed. A tall man with an exceptionally cut suit came gliding into the dining hall before taking his seat to the right of his brother. Regardless of Klaus’ ruthlessness, Elijah was just as fearsome. To Hope, her uncle was worse though she never showed her fear because she was trained to never have fear. However, in the presence of her uncle, fear and everything that came along with it, was the only thing she felt. _You’re worthless, useless, nothing._ Hope thought those words repeated in her head every time Elijah was around because he refused to make her forget.

“Ah, brother. Nice of you to join us.” Klaus greeted his real second in command, enthusiastically.

“Yes well, let’s get on with whatever this little charade is you and the girl have put together.” Elijah practically purred in his predatory voice and nodded over at Hope with a look only Hope could recognize as disdain.

“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine this morning. Did your night not go as planned with the violinist you were trying to seduce? What was her name again, slut-whore?” Klaus smirked at the annoyance his brother exhibited before pouring himself his own glass of scotch.

“ _Giselle_ and I have conflicting interests.” Elijah answered before taking a sip of his drink.

“Interests such as..?” Klaus continued smirking at his brother because he knew exactly what that little slut Giselle wanted.

“I prefer my woman to have interest in me and she prefers my brother.” Elijah answered irritatedly and Hope accidentally let out a soft chuckle but thankfully Klaus let out his own laughter and a boasting one at that. His laughter completely masked hers.

“Oh dear brother, don’t look so wounded. Plenty of sluts in the whore house to go around. That’s the saying isn’t it?” Klaus continued his boisterous laugh. While Hope’s uncle was the only person she was scared of, she couldn’t help but laugh along with her father.

“Absolutely hilarious Niklaus. Instead of discussing my exploits, perhaps you can tell me why you’ve summoned me to join this little debacle of a family meal. Where are Rebekah and Freya?” Elijah answered with his deep, demon-like voice before adjusting his tie. Klaus’ laughter began to dwindle at the sound of his birth name.

“I suspect Freya is still relishing in what sounded like an enjoyable night with Keelin. As for Rebekah, one can never be too sure what she’s up to at any point of the day or night.” Klaus responded before finishing the remainder of his drink.

“That’s not entirely correct. According to our friend Josh at the New Orleans Tribune, it seems Aunt Rebekah was seen leaving The Penthouse Club last night with… oh dear me.” Hope clicked her tongue and paused for exaggeration as she looked up from the paper and over at her father, making direct mischievous eye contact.

“I must ask her how she managed three congressmen in one night. That just seems like too much work and effort.” Hope said sarcastically, knowing full well the talk of her running around town for scandalous deeds such as what her aunt was known for, sent rage through her father.

“Nonsense. If done correctly, it’s all pleasure and not work.” A sweet but edgy voice of a woman came from just behind Hope. Her aunt Rebekah, with bright blue eyes and immaculate wavy blonde hair, came sauntering into the dining hall. She planted a kiss on the top of Hope’s head before taking her seat to the left of Klaus.

“Do not discuss your sexual endeavors with my daughter.” Klaus greeted his baby sister but before she could answer, it was Elijah that uttered the next words, the disappointment apparent in his voice.

“Really Rebekah, _three?_ We don’t need anymore unexpected scandals right now. I believe Senator Kennedy is still demanding we pay his settlement for emotional damages.” Elijah reprimanded his sister before the three siblings began a shouting match about Rebekah’s failed cons to garner them more money and property. Hope folded the paper and placed it in front of her. It was more entertaining to watch her father fight with his siblings and even better when she had a cup of coffee to keep her company.

“ _What on earth are you all yelling about now?!_ ” Freya called from the foyer’s balcony, clearly still in a sleep-like state.

“Ah Freya, you’re up. Come along, breakfast is served. We have important matters to discuss.” Klaus called out and with that, the table went silent. Important matters in Klaus’ terms meant highest priority and when the alpha called, you obeyed.

Hope went back to her paper as the rest of them ate, while all of them waited for Freya. She sipped her coffee, doing her best to ignore her uncle’s presence at the table. They avoided each other every chance they got, except for when he was training her and it felt like he was always training her. They were family by blood, anything else that made up a family did not apply to Elijah and Hope. Regardless, they looked out for each other because that’s what wolves do. That’s what Mikaelsons do, unless a betrayal took place. Or perhaps it was because they had no other choice but to look out for one another, otherwise everyone would know something was terribly wrong with their legacy, and there couldn’t be anything wrong with Hope. Perfection was expected from her and anything less would mean punishment and Hope, well, she hated punishment if it was enacted on her. Hope had lost herself and hadn’t realized her Aunt Freya had joined them, seated next to Rebekah and Keelin across from her. 

“Now then, since you all finally decided to show up, we have business to attend to.” Klaus said just as Freya started pouring herself a cup of coffee for both her and her lover.

“What business?” Rebekah asked as she decided to forego the coffee and mix herself a mimosa instead, without the orange juice. Hope found it funny how, other than Freya, her family’s preferred drinks in the morning weren’t anything to stimulate you for the day but rather the opposite, liquid sedatives.

“Hayley died during an exchange that was supposed to take place with the Phoenixes, who also lost their leaders that same day. Regrettably, we haven’t caught the cowards responsible for this atrocity but it has not been for lack of trying.” Klaus began and before he continued, Elijah raised his hand to interrupt.

“Are you about to suggest that we dedicate our resources to finding Hayley’s murderer, five years after the fact?” Elijah tried his best to keep his calm but it was written on his face. He had wanted to catch the bastards responsible from the moment it happened. He had been adamant about it being their top priority but Klaus was focused on Hope, on her safety and her need to be able to fend for herself and for her to take up the mantle that Hayley had left behind. Now suddenly Klaus was ready and willing to devote their time and energy to this mission. What changed and why now?

“I can see you’re not pleased with my timing Elija but this isn’t just about Hayley. Tobias and Talia were very good for business and along with Hayley, their deaths affected us the same. Every single person in this room wants to avenge Hayley but that right belongs to Hope. She’ll find the bastards and when she does, she’ll take from them what they took from us. Plus interest.” Klaus answered and lifted his hand to silence another protest Elijah was about to make. He turned his attention to his daughter, who had since risen from her laid back pose and was now leaning against the table, gripping the edges with a fierce look in her eyes. _She had waited for this, she craved it._ Klaus poured himself another glass of scotch then raised it and tipped it off at his daughter.

“Hope, happy hunting.” He cheered with a smirk before taking a sip. Her aunts and uncle followed the gesture which she returned with a nod. It was a gesture between them that garnered more affection and respect than a hug. Though Elijah did it out of pretense.

Hope exited the dining room, already pulling her phone out to message her team, so she could escape before her uncle started commenting into her dad’s ear about how she wasn’t equipped to handle a job like this. How she wasn’t calculating enough, not brutal enough, not conniving enough. About how Hope was nothing like her mother and never would be. She knew her father waved her uncle’s comments aside but it still stung a bit when her father didn’t try to dissuade his brother from those absurd allegations. _Are they really absurd though?_ Hope thought as she made her way to her room to pack. Truth be told, besides her uncle, the thought of not being enough always scared her. Not being enough to make her father proud. Not being enough to live up to her mother’s legacy. _Worthless._ That was what her uncle always called her and in time it was the only word she came to fear. Hope was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the knock that came at the door and before she could let the intruder know to leave her alone, the devil walked through her door.

“Leaving so soon are you?” Elijah’s deep voice came as he entered her room. Hope hid her scowl but answered steadily.

“Yes. This has been long overdue, as you plainly noted at breakfast.” Hope finished before zipping up her bag full of all her prized possessions and precious toys. _Tools of her trade._ She moved to step around her uncle but he was quick to block her exit, that every bit of irritability showing on his face whenever he was alone with his niece.

“Oh but darling niece, it’s time for your daily session with your absolutely _adoring_ uncle.” Elijah said coolly but there was poison in his voice. Poison only Hope knew of because it was poison specially made for her. His smile was wicked and full of nightmares. _I could pull out my crescent blades and jam it through his jugular,_ Hope thought but knew better. That act of defiance will only result in her own death if there was no way to prove the torture her uncle inflicted on her. _Nor would there ever be any evidence,_ Hope reminded herself. Elijah’s preferred method of torture for his own flesh and blood, was physcological. Granted he only used his favorite method of torture on her, the only living _disappointment_ of the family. The words he used and the way he would twist her memories around, was mentally and emotionally detrimental. So no, there would never be any physcial signs of torture because he never laid a hand on her. He never needed to. He preyed on her weakness because he was the one that instilled it into her since she was a child.

“You heard my father. I better get hunting.” Hope said trying to muster more power in her voice but it was impossible. She could stand up to her father, take down business typhoons and even pull off an untraceable murder, but in the presence of her uncle, she was the same little girl cowering in the corner while her monster terrorized her in a way other monsters could not.

“Every hunter needs target practice.” Elijah replied as he turned and walked off towards the underground training rooms, expecting her to follow. Elijah normally didn’t tolerate that kind of disobeying banter but when he did, he always got the last word. Hope dropped her bag and followed quietly as she secretly nursed the idea of all the ways she could slit her uncle’s throat in his sleep. _If only she had the courage to do it and face her own death sentence without fear._ When they arrived at the smallest training room, Hope quickly went to the weapon closet and pulled out the daggers she often used during these training sessions, and buckled them to her forearms. She pulled out the .45 caliber pistol and quickly attached a suppressor before clipping it to her belt and made her way to the center of the room where there was a single metal chair with chain attachments. Elijah brought her target out and chained him to the chair. One wouldn’t call this a training room, it was more a room for interrogations and executions but when Hope and Elijah were in it together, it acted as a training room. There was no such thing as target practice for Hope because nothing Elijah taught her had anything to do with accuracy. But it was still a training nonetheless.

As Elijah stepped away, Hope got her first glance at today’s target. A starved looking boy that couldn’t be a day over thirteen. Elijah had the decency to gag the boy so that he wouldn’t go screaming for help before the session was done but he didn’t have to use the boy’s own dirty socks to do it. His brown hair had grown unruly in captivity, slimy too without the luxury of a daily shower. His clothes were sodden with his own mess and his face was covered in dried blood, most likely his own. His eyes had been dilated beyond belief so that he wouldn’t be able to tell where he was. He would’ve been a good looking boy and he would’ve grown up to be a good looking man. Whether it was bad luck he ended up here or he tried to pull one over on the Wolves, today was judgement day for him.

“Well well well, what do we have here.” Hope purred as she stepped up to her victim but made the distinct mistake to inhale deeply. His smell was wretched and she almost keeled over with the wave of nausea that hit her. She quickly recovered but it was enough for Elijah to notice.

“Really Hope? If that’s how you’re going to play with the poor boy, you might as well let him go now.” Elijah noted as he leaned against the wall and watched Hope continue to hide her nausea.

“He smells like rotting flesh. How you managed his putrid stench when binding him to this chair is beyond me.” Hope replied as she stepped away from the boy and took in a breath of air that was outside of the boy’s bubble of odor. Elijah glanced at her, that irritable look flashed on his face once again.

“You shouldn’t be hurdling your pathetic excuses at me. It’s just that much more reason why you’re never going to be a wolf in my eyes. How you possess even the slightest amount of genes as your mother, is beyond me. You’re nothing like her. You’re too soft, too hesitant, too..” Elijah said, the poison in his voice growing with each word before he trailed off, deciding it wasn’t worth his time to finish insulting her. _Too much of a failure,_ Hope thought to herself, finishing his sentence. _Worthless._ Bile rose up into her throat once more but it wasn’t because of the boy’s smell, it was the sinking feeling and utter truthness of the words her uncle began and she finished. Without another word, she pulled the pistol off her belt and buried a dozen bullets into the boy. _Quick and painless,_ Hope thought, _nothing like her mother._

“There. Happy?” Hope turned to face her uncle with a stony expression regardless of the emotional storm rising in her. He cocked his head at her, ignoring the now decaying body of the boy, and stormed up to her with a snarl. She flinched as he drew near but didn’t back away. It was always worse when she backed away.

“Happy? Never. Your mother was taken because of you and if you even were half the woman your mother was, you wouldn’t have finished him off so quickly. Your mother wouldn’t have had the sympathy you so showed just now. That’s what makes you useless, this grotesque need to feel, it’s sickening. It should’ve been you that died that day.” Elijah’s deep and poisonous voice had turned treacherous and deadly before a loud **_BANG_** rang out, sending Elijah groaning in pain.

“Don’t. Speak. To. _My. Daughter._ Like. That. _Ever._ Again.” Klaus’ voice was steady but it was full of menace and rage as he lowered the gun he had shot at his brother. The bullet had grazed his arm, a warning to step away before the next one found its way to a vital organ. Hope looked to her father but he didn’t return the glance. Elijah was yelling obscenities which put a soft smile to Hope’s lips. She had endured far worse than a bullet graze to a shoulder without so much as a whimper, but here was her vile excuse of an uncle whining about a wound that he wouldn’t feel once the right drugs were administered to him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Klaus asked, his voice losing a bit of that edge that was there moments ago. He still didn’t look at his daughter, but the question was directed at her. Hope put away her smile and quickly ran from the room, heading straight for her room to pick up her bag. She wanted to put as much distance between her and her uncle as fast as possible. Before she was out of earshot, she made out the words her father told his brother, _get yourself patched up and clean up this mess._ He was referring to the body Hope had left crumpled to the floor, that put another smile on her face before she remembered that Elijah would enact revenge on her as soon as she came back to the compound.

Hope slipped into the Bentley Rebekah had gifted her when she passed her driver’s test. She didn’t plan on returning for a while. She had packed light but that didn’t matter, she had a place of her own, somewhere her family had no idea about. It was a run down mill and factory just outside of town. Hope had converted it into her own little playhouse, somewhere she could go to blow off steam. A place to plot and plan and practice with her own team, her inner circle. That’s where she was headed now as she zipped down the streets. Once she arrived, she threw her bag on the large table in the makeshift foyer before launching herself onto the grand sofa to read through the texts that had blown up her phone since this morning.

_Hope: Huge job, meet at complex ASAP.  
MG: Aye aye cap-i-tan.  
Lizzie: What are you, Spongebob?  
Josie: Heading there now.  
Kaleb: Can you pick up that miracle hangover cure on the way?  
Josie: No.  
MG: No but she’s still captain regardless.  
Lizzie: Nerd.  
MG: You love me.  
Josie: Get a room._

Hope sighed and ignored the rest of the messages as everyone’s banter continued on. She sent this text this morning and still no one was here. Just get here, Hope texted before closing her eyes, visualizing how she’lll finally be able to gut the lowlife that killed her mother. She wasn’t going to fail at this, she couldn’t. Nothing and no one would stop her from taking her revenge. Not her father, not her uncle, no one. Or so she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The themes discussed in this fic aren't a work of fiction. They are real problems that real people face every day. I encourage you to please educate yourselves on matters such as those listed in the trigger warnings. When you're equipped with the right information, you'll know how to help. Educating yourselves on these matters is the first step in joining the fight.
> 
> Information Regarding Human Trafficking:  
> [United Nations Website](https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/what-is-human-trafficking.html)
> 
> Information Regarding Child Exploitation Prevention:  
> [Migration and Home Affairs](https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/cybercrime/child-sexual-abuse/global-alliance-against-child-abuse_en)  
> [UNICEF](https://www.unicef.org/protection/child-labour)  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/health-topics/violence-against-children)  
> [ICE - Predator](https://www.ice.gov/predator)
> 
> Some Information Regarding Abuse Prevention Organizations:  
> [National Sexual Violence Resource Center](https://www.nsvrc.org/organizations/150#:~:text=The%20International%20Society%20for%20Prevention,abuse%2C%20neglect%20and%20exploitation%20globally.)  
> [Domestice Shelters](https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations)  
> [The International Society for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect](https://www.who.int/violenceprevention/about/participants/ispcan/en/)  
> [National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence](http://www.ncdsv.org/ncd_linkswominternational.html)  
> [Office on Women's Health](https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/other-types/emotional-and-verbal-abuse)  
> [Prevent Child Abuse America](https://preventchildabuse.org/resource/preventing-emotional-abuse/)
> 
> Information Regarding Rape Prevention Organizations:  
> [No Means No Worldwide](https://www.nomeansnoworldwide.org/our-story#:~:text=No%20Means%20No%20Worldwide%20\(NMNW,and%20girls%20ages%2010%2D20.)  
> [United Nations](https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/about-us/un-action/)  
> [The International Campaign to Stop Rape and Gender Violence in Conflict](http://www.beautyinthemiddle.org/the-international-campaign-to-stop-rape-and-gender-violence-in-conflict)
> 
> Information Regarding Animal Cruelty Organizations:  
> [PETA - People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals](https://www.peta.org/about-peta/learn-about-peta/)  
> [ASPCA - American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals](https://www.aspca.org/)  
> [Animal Justice Project](https://animaljusticeproject.com/)
> 
> Information Regarding Substance Abuse Organizations:  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/substance_abuse/en/)  
> [National Institutes of Health](https://www.nih.gov/about-nih/what-we-do/nih-almanac/national-institute-drug-abuse-nida)  
> [National Center for Biotechnology Information](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3122477/)


	5. No Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paxton Park was dead and the Ravens were left leaderless. Landon wasn't made to be a leader but tonight had changed everything. He would have to take up the mantle of Raven King. The title had been created because of Paxton and he had been the only one to have ever been bestowed that title. Though Landon was already the most feared Claw thug to have ever resided in the city, he needed to be more now. More wicked, more monstrous, more of a nightmare than this city had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Child exploitation, violence, human trafficking, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mention of rape, animal cruelty, substance abuse, self harm.

Landon had already torn through his room by the time Pen snuck in through the balcony. She took one look at her surroundings and decided a tornado had hit while she was seeing to her twin’s dead body and unmounting Old Man Tex’s as well. She took in a breath, she was hurting and she knew Landon was hurting too, even if he lacked the emotional capacity to display what he was actually feeling. This wasn’t the first time they had lost a brother but loss was never easy. Landon’s shoulders rose as his trained ears heard Pen’s soundless breath.

“Ryan’s revolver. It’s missing.” Landon quietly spat, the rock salt rasp in his voice growing more deadly as rage ripped through him and although none of it was meant to be directed at Pen, she was the only one present to take it in. She ignored him though, there were other things they needed to focus on right now.

“And P’s dead.” She replied, her voice raw but balanced despite the guttural and painful screams she had administered the moment everyone had dispersed the entrance hall, the moment Landon was far out of earshot. Landon continued searching through the hidden drawers, doors and safes he had outfitted his room with, not so much as a nod or a glance or any kind of acknowledgement that their family was now down to the two of them. Pen and Landon had a knack for holding their composure but for Landon not to display any kind of feeling at the loss of one of their own, it enraged her. Pax was her twin but he was just as much a brother to Landon as Ryan was, so why wasn’t he grief stricken like she was?

“Did you hear me? _P’s dead!_ ” She yelled as she unsheathed her knives, throwing them at Landon, barely missing his ears by a hair, as they stuck to the wall in front of him. _Had she meant to miss?_ Pen asked herself but she didn’t know the answer. Again he spared no glance, he didn’t even flinch when the knives flew right by him.

“I heard you. It wasn’t hard to miss his headless body in the foyer. And did you hear me? Ryan’s revolver is missing.” His voice was building with fury. At this, he turned to face Pen. _There,_ Pen thought, there it was, the grief and anger, the loss and fear. It was the small tightening of his jaw, the clenching of his fists. He was trying to hold his emotions in because he knew Pen was the one that needed to let it out, and he was supposed to be the one with his head on straight. Except, the one thing that could bring him comfort in a time like this, the one thing that allowed him to have control over himself, was now missing from his possession, and it was taking everything in him to not go into a bloodthirsty rampage. Pen knew this but still she pressed on, she was too full of anguish and having Landon as her only consoler didn’t help.

“P’s dead and you’re worried about a piece you’ve never even fired? A weapon you’d never dare use for yourself? We need to go back to Sir Edward _right now_ and get every bit of information we can!” Pen silently screamed as she walked up to him. Tiny as she was, she was still quite the spitfire. Landon didn’t react except to reach out and grab his cane.

“What a brilliant idea, Ghost. Let’s go.” Landon answered and slipped past her without another word. He was gone before she could finish yelling at him but it was better that way. Her yelling wasn’t going to bring back Pax and it wasn’t going to change who Landon was. With a sigh and a heavy heart, she leapt through the balcony window and made her way across the high rooftops of the city, crawling around unseen, like the spider she was. _Ghost Spider_ , Pen remembered Old Man Tex calling her that and she always preferred that name. Regardless of what she preferred, ghost or spider or both, she was on the hunt for a reckoning. Tonight, she was none of those things and all of them. Tonight, she was going to be the assassin her brother taught her to be. She’d find Sir Edward before Landon would and when she did, it wouldn’t be pretty.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Landon limped along the streets, leaning against his cane even more with every step. The sprint back to the Raven Club earlier hadn’t helped with his bad leg but he grit his teeth and relished in the pain. This was the kind of pain he could handle, the throbbing and bone grinding kind. The kind of pain that overtook him when he saw Pax’s and Old Man Tex’s decimated bodies on display for their gang to see, it had almost been too much. That was the kind of pain he avoided at all cost. The grief and anger that came with loss, he didn’t want to go through this again. Not after his parents and not after Pen’s parents. Not after Ryan. But here he was again, another life, another burn.

He slipped into an alleyway as soon as he heard the Ghost leap over the rooftops above, making a mental note of the direction she was headed based on the sounds of her leaps. He took out the box of cigarettes he always kept in his coat pocket. Leaning against the alley wall, he unbuttoned his coat, then his vest, then finally his shirt. The box of cigarettes had been Ryan’s, his brother had made Landon promise to hold onto them the day he died, though he had no idea he was going to die then. Just until the deal with the Wolves was done, so that Ryan would be alert enough on the lookout spot Talia had told them to stay in. Ryan’s focus would get boggled whenever he had a cigarette between his lips, because when he did, all he could think about was relishing in the burning sensation he gladly inhaled, and ignored everything else around him. It was a habit Landon swore he’d never take up. It made his brother reckless at times and Landon would never allow himself to be reckless.

The need to smoke wasn’t why Landon held onto that box all these years, and sure, he told himself it was so that he could keep his promise, but mostly it was meant to be a reminder. There were only five sticks left in the box when Ryan handed it over to Landon, now there were two. Landon lifted one of the sticks out of the box, pulled out the lighter hidden in his sleeve and lit up the stick before pressing the burning end to an unmarked portion of his chest. He gulped down the agony of the branding he gave himself. Each time the bud went out, he’d light it up again and press it to the same exact spot. There were five other burn scars on his chest, one each for his mother and father, Talia, Tobias and Ryan. _Reminders_ , Landon thought to himself. Reminders of the simple fact that he wasn’t strong enough to keep them alive. Reminders and a promise. A promise to be stronger. And with each new burn, he had grown stronger, but at what cost?

Once the stick was down to the filter, he tossed it away, buttoned his clothes back up and continued on his way, following the path he had heard the Ghost taken. There was only one place they’d find Sir Edward lingering about, the House of Exotics, back for more of Madame Selene’s highly coveted treasures. The bastard really was greedy when it came to the sins of the flesh, he wouldn’t let a broken groin stop him from seeking what he thought was rightfully his to take. _Privileged scum_ , Landon thought. The _untouchable_ politicians, the rich business typhoons, the higher than the moon royal heirs, every single person that was the polar opposite of a minority. _All of them, privileged scum_ , Landon thought again, _scum looking for joy and beauty and fun in his city._ But there was no beauty in The Claw, no real merriment or joy, just transactions, people seeking escape or some colourful oblivion, some dream of decadence that they could wake from whenever they wished, without the added consequences of their realities. The flaw to their privilege when they stepped foot into Landon’s city, was that he could make transactions too. And tonight, he was itching for some fun.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pen hated the House of Exotics. Yeah she was a killer and an accomplice to extortion, but everything about this place made her skin crawl. Madame Selene always had the first pick of the traders that came through the city every month. After all, with the Sirens’ reputation and the word around town about how the House of Exotics was the best thing to ever sprung up in this godforsaken city, that meant she needed to snatch up the best merchandise the slave traders had to offer. Madame Selene never cared where these slavers found their products, all that mattered was that she got to pick out the best looking ones before anyone else. Though slavery was illegal in the city and all the surrounding areas, indentures were not. That’s how the Siren’s procured their treasures, the products of the entertainment they provided, through indentures. They would sort through the trader’s goods and instead of just simply making a purchase from one slaver to another, a contract was drawn up and they were signed by each of the young girls and boys Madame Selene picked. Though none of them ever knew what they were signing away. A lifetime of servitude in exchange for a place to stay and food to eat, with no chance at actual freedom.

_From one slaver to another_ , Pen had thought when she had discovered exactly how the Sirens ran their businesses. The last time she had been in this foul building, she and Landon had walked through the front door to pay off a few indentures that Madame Selene had in her possession. Pen had often crawled along the building, not because she had a sick affinity for being a peeping tom, but to garner information. To take note of which employee had worth, the ones that had a fight in them, the ones that would only benefit the Ravens. That was how Raf and Jed had joined up their ranks earlier this year, they weren’t the usual stumble-across-the-gang members they so often took in. They had been hand picked, a transfer of merchandise as one would call it. Though the Ravens were much more fair with their indentures, giving actual opportunity for an indenture to be paid off by the applicant. Still, Pen couldn’t help but feel they weren’t any better than any of the other Claw thugs. _From one slaver to another._

Tonight though, she hadn’t come to help liberate yet another poor soul from under Madame Selene’s grasp. She had only one purpose and she already knew where she would find it. Seventh floor, third window from the right on the west wing. Sir Edward hadn’t finished his little nonconsensual tryst earlier this evening, so of course there was no other he would request. A creature of habit. It was silly to think Madame Selene could hide away her best kept secrets and treasures in the upper levels of the building, thinking the Ghost wouldn’t be able to find them. It was a compliment to Pen, that her reputation truly preceded her.

She scaled the building, flipped herself onto the balcony of the room without a sound, and slipped out the pins she kept hidden in her breast pocket. She wasn’t the greatest lock pick, regardless if Landon, thief extraordinaire, had tried to teach her everything he knew, but she managed all the same, though with less finesse. With two clicks, the balcony doors unlocked and she slipped in, only to be flooded with that horrid gagging noise that had echoed through the alleyway earlier that night. Pen glided into the room unseen and though it was dark, she knew something was wrong. That gagging noise she was hearing, it was worse, it was desperate breaths for air, not because something was obstructing airways but because it was being snuffed out of the victim. Without another thought, the Ghost sprang forward and grabbed hold of the bigger shadow, gripping her arms around the large neck like a vise.

“ _ARGH!_ ” Sir Edward tried to shout for help as he let go of the young girl he had pinned to the bed just seconds before with his meaty and rough hands. It was no use though, now he was the one gasping and desperate for air. In ten seconds she had him knocked unconscious, laying him on the floor, away from the young girl. Pen glanced at her with a look of death and that was enough to send her running into the bathroom to lock herself inside it, away from these crude monsters that occupied her room. Pen turned back to the man lying unconscious in front of her, with her knives already flying into her hands. She bent down, ready to skin him alive, but just then, a soft tap came at the door before Landon picked the lock and limped right in before she could inflict even an ounce of pain. She made her knives disappear and stepped back from Sir Edward.

“Well, you took your sweet ass time getting here.” Pen whispered, trying to mask her disappointment that he didn’t take an even longer time getting here, as Landon poked Sir Edward’s gut with his cane.

“You have a cheater’s advantage. You can defy gravity whereas I can’t, which means my routes are limited.” Landon whispered back then signaled for Pen to shut the door and make sure it stayed shut, which she begrudgingly obliged. Landon tapped the tip of his cane to Sir Edward’s cheek and continued to prod his large figure relentlessly until he woke up.

“Wake up you miserable lump of blubber.” Landon said impatiently before thwacking Sir Edward’s left knee which sent him jolting awake with a groggy groan leaving his lips.

“Urghh..” He murmured and before he could register what had happened, Landon and Pen were on him in a flash. Landon pulled him up by his hair and tossed him into the seat across the room. Pen pulled out a roll of duct tape from one of the room’s drawers, every room had one for the benefit it’s patrons, and wrapped it tightly around his mouth. It was no use trying to escape but that didn’t stop Sir Edward from trying to crawl away from his captors. He whimpered, trying to garner enough sound to alarm the guards that were always stationed down the hallways, of his distress. He had no idea Landon had disposed of them before stepping through the door, so he continued his useless, muffled cries for help, even as Landon swiftly landed a kick to the man’s ribs and dragged him back to the seat. Pen cuffed his hands and legs to the chair before sliding one of her knives out of thin air to press firmly against his neck. She deliberately nicked him, a sliver of his blood sliding onto her knife. _Beg for your life_ , Pen thought. She wanted to slice his head clean off his shoulders but she kept her control. It wasn’t the time for a quick retribution, no, she wasn’t going to take her time. Once Landon extracted every bit of information this brainless oaf had to offer, she was going to mutilate him.

“Sir Edward. Fancy running into you again.” Landon’s voice drawled towards them as he pulled up a chair in front of Sir Edward. He sat with his cane tucked across his lap as he stretched out his bad leg and slid one of his gloved hands through his hair, slicking his curls back and away from his face.

“Mmmph! Uhhnnh!” Sir Edward tried to formulate words but he couldn’t with the feel of cold steel against his neck and the elastic taste of the duct tape filling his taste buds, trapping his voice in his throat.

“You’re right, now’s not a time for pleasantries. The sun’s about to rise and we’ve all got places to be. So, be a dear and tell me what I want to know. Preferably before the Ghost here decides to send you back to your _lovely_ family in pieces. Nod if you understand.” Landon told the defeated old man, his signature deadly smirk curled up on his face. Sir Edward nodded and a second later there was a terrible ripping sound. Pen had torn the duct tape off Sir Edward’s lips, yanking off bits of his lips along with the tape. Before he could cry out in pain, Pen pressed the knife harder into his neck, daring him to let out a scream so she would have the honor of cutting out his tongue. But he didn’t scream, instead he was overcome with laughter, the blood from his torn lips had mixed with his saliva and the harder he laughed, the more the spray of blood and spit littered the floor. _He was amused_ , Landon thought as his annoyance grew. He had planned on Sir Edward groveling, begging. He didn’t plan on laughter.

“You should see your face, Kirby. You look like someone kicked your puppy.” He continued to laugh but Landon held his posture, just slightly cocking his head to the right, emitting bewilderment, as if to tease Sir Edward and say, _whatever do you mean?_ Pen’s composure was not so secured, she was shaking in anger, pulling her knife back and slashing it down along the right side of Sir Edward’s head, severing his ear right off. Before she should raise her hand to do the same to the other ear, Landon stood, holding his hand up at her. Pen growled at him but stopped her movements abruptly and stepped away. Sir Edward was no longer laughing though his cries of pain sounded almost the same, but it didn’t matter, no one would come to his rescue. Landon had made sure of that. He took another calculating glance at the man in front of him and thought, _now it’s time to break him._ Just then he heard sirens wailing in the background, his smirk curved up.

“Whatever you think is amusing, I can assure you it’s not. 1400 Anderson Lane, 23rd floor.” Landon said with ease, the power in the room shifting so suddenly with Sir Edward’s face turning green.

“What are you on about?” He snarled but it was too late. There was a hitch in his breath and his voice was raised a slight octave higher than normal. Pen heard it too as she looked at Landon with a bemused look on her face, though she knew exactly what was stored at the location he had just described because it was her who had discovered it.

“1400 Anderson Lane, 23rd floor. It’s that highly sophisticated condominium building where your charming, albeit racist, wife is staying. Along with your delicious looking daughter and genius of a boy grandson. As I recall, you own that entire floor and it’s where they lodge at whenever you have _business_ ventures down in The Claw. Oh, what would they think if they ever found out the kind of business you conduct down in the slums.” Landon stepped in front of him and bent down to one knee so he could be at eye level with his victim. He wanted to see the moment the terror clouded over him, he wanted to see the moment Sir Edward broke and gave in.

“I never bring my family on business trips, they aren’t even in this sad excuse of a country.” Sir Edward spat but it did nothing to hide the fear that snuck it’s way into him the moment Landon mentioned the address.

“That’s what a smart man would do. Let’s see if you are indeed a smart man, shall we? I know, let’s make a wager out of it. If I give my hitmen the order to break right in and make it look like it was a random slaughter of an entire family of tourists, by a band of rouge Claw thugs, what would they find? If the place is empty, I’ll take my leave though I can’t say the same for my associate here. If it’s not empty, well, it’s not like you care enough about them to stop spreading your seed and impregnating young girls with the virus of your genes anyway. Deal?” Landon’s cool rasp was devious and terrifying but Sir Edward shook his head.

“No deal. She’d kill me regardless.” Sir Edward’s voice trembled slightly as he nodded at Pen. Her smile was evil as she twirled her knives in her hands. Landon clicked his tongue to show his disappointment that their game was being cut short.  
“Well..” Landon paused then continued. “Let’s find out anyway, shall we?” Landon’s grin was unholy as he saw Sir Edward’s defenses break. Landon stood and moved to pull his phone out.

“WAIT! Stop stop don’t! I’ll tell you anything you want to know! Please just don’t hurt them, call off your hitmen. Please just spare my family!” He wailed loudly like the broken thing he was. It was music to their ears, to see the might and power this man had, crumple to nothing at the hands of Landon Kirby.

“I’ll spare them. As soon as you tell me who hired you to be a distraction and who ordered the hit on our leaders.” Landon’s deadly rasp came cutting through the air. Sir Edward let out his cries of relief before looking back at Landon. He had been frightened beyond belief thinking this teenage boy was about to wipe out his entire family without ever batting an eye.

“There’s something wrong with you, Kirby. You aren’t made right.” Sir Edward huffed, out of breath from the cries he had dispelled earlier.

“You were born into a wealthy family, right? Paraded around with a simple belief that nothing and no one could touch you? You were _shaped_ into being a no good piece of shit. The difference between you and me? _I’m_ the kind of monster they only manufacture in the Claw.” Landon replied.

The look of terror welled back up on Sir Edward’s face once more and without any more protest, he told them everything he knew. It wasn’t enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The themes discussed in this fic aren't a work of fiction. They are real problems that real people face every day. I encourage you to please educate yourselves on matters such as those listed in the trigger warnings. When you're equipped with the right information, you'll know how to help. Educating ourselves on these matters is the first step in joining the fight.  
> 
> 
> Information Regarding Human Trafficking:  
> [United Nations Website](https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/what-is-human-trafficking.html)
> 
> Information Regarding Child Exploitation Prevention:  
> [Migration and Home Affairs](https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/cybercrime/child-sexual-abuse/global-alliance-against-child-abuse_en)  
> [UNICEF](https://www.unicef.org/protection/child-labour)  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/health-topics/violence-against-children)  
> [ICE - Predator](https://www.ice.gov/predator)
> 
> Some Information Regarding Abuse Prevention Organizations:  
> [National Sexual Violence Resource Center](https://www.nsvrc.org/organizations/150#:~:text=The%20International%20Society%20for%20Prevention,abuse%2C%20neglect%20and%20exploitation%20globally.)  
> [Domestice Shelters](https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations)  
> [The International Society for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect](https://www.who.int/violenceprevention/about/participants/ispcan/en/)  
> [National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence](http://www.ncdsv.org/ncd_linkswominternational.html)  
> [Office on Women's Health](https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/other-types/emotional-and-verbal-abuse)  
> [Prevent Child Abuse America](https://preventchildabuse.org/resource/preventing-emotional-abuse/)
> 
> Information Regarding Rape Prevention Organizations:  
> [No Means No Worldwide](https://www.nomeansnoworldwide.org/our-story#:~:text=No%20Means%20No%20Worldwide%20\(NMNW,and%20girls%20ages%2010%2D20.)  
> [United Nations](https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/about-us/un-action/)  
> [The International Campaign to Stop Rape and Gender Violence in Conflict](http://www.beautyinthemiddle.org/the-international-campaign-to-stop-rape-and-gender-violence-in-conflict)
> 
> Information Regarding Animal Cruelty Organizations:  
> [PETA - People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals](https://www.peta.org/about-peta/learn-about-peta/)  
> [ASPCA - American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals](https://www.aspca.org/)  
> [Animal Justice Project](https://animaljusticeproject.com/)
> 
> Information Regarding Substance Abuse Organizations:  
> [World Health Organization](https://www.who.int/substance_abuse/en/)  
> [National Institutes of Health](https://www.nih.gov/about-nih/what-we-do/nih-almanac/national-institute-drug-abuse-nida)  
> [National Center for Biotechnology Information](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3122477/)


End file.
